Dragon's Edge
by niteryde
Summary: In Dragon's Edge, four royal kingdoms have known peace for centuries. When King Kold of the Ice-jin's health begins to fail, however, the other kingdoms must prepare for the reality of the cruel Prince Cooler and the sadistic Prince Frieza coming into power...through arranged marriages, alliances, magic dragonballs, steel, and blood. AU, inspired by Game of Thrones.


**A/N: This story is going to be different from what I've tried before. It's heavily inspired by Game of Thrones, one of my all-time favorite shows and book series, but with the DBZ cast instead. There will be magical/fantasy elements, so I can't say it'll be "all human". I won't be following the GoT storyline though (nor could I, it's so complex). It's more about the atmosphere and the politics, and the double-crossing and all that deliciousness that makes Game of Thrones such a delight (in my opinion). I'm no GRRM, but the DBZ crew is so vast and the characters so rich, I thought this would be enjoyable to write (and, hopefully, to read). You do NOT need to have watched GoT or read the books to follow this.**

 **Bulma and Vegeta will be featured prominently in this fic (because let's be real, I can't resist) and they will have their moments. However, I will also focus a substantial amount on other characters too. I will be pulling in characters from across the whole series as it fits (including some OCs here and there too, like Vegeta's mother for instance).**

 **If all of this doesn't sound like not your cup of tea, then I understand. If you're curious though, then let's get this thing going. This idea has been itching at me for a LONG time, so time to get it out of my system! Here goes nothing. If you're still with me, I sincerely hope you enjoy.**

* * *

It was official. Dragon's Edge was the coldest it'd been in _years_.

Yamcha breathed out into his cupped hands around his mouth, before rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to keep warm. He squinted up at the sky, observing the sunset. Cold as it was, it was about to get even colder. Frowning, he stared down at the remnants of the fire they had made the night before. It was too dangerous to start it again; they were close to making their move once they had the full cover of darkness, and the fire would draw far too much attention. Still, it didn't stop him from yearning. The bandit squatted down, rubbing his hands together again.

"You're anxious."

Yamcha peered up through his black bangs at the man towering over him. From this angle, Tien looked almost as tall as the trees in the woods they were in. Yamcha looked away, rubbing his hands more vigorously. He had enough tattered furs to warm him, but no protection for his hands, which had long since gone numb from the exposure. Had he known this winter would be so bloody cold, he may have stolen himself a fine pair of hand-made leather gloves instead of the wine he'd stolen from their last run.

"Not a chance in any hell," he boasted. "This run is no different from the others."

"Don't be foolish," Tien growled. He looked around them, as though ensuring no one was overhearing. The only ones around were the few horses they had stolen from the Saiyans weeks prior, and in the distance, he could briefly make out the movement of their third companion. Tien's frown grew worse when he saw how far his woman had gone, but Launch was as wild as the Shadowlands they lived in. She would return with the darkness, and then they would begin. "This run is entirely different."

"The Ice-jin are of no concern to us."

"The Ice-jin are of _every_ concern if we are caught. Don't be a fool, Yamcha. We must heed caution."

Yamcha stood, turning his head to regard his comrade. He exhaled through his nose, before solemnly nodding his agreement. "We will only take what we must so our people can survive this winter. The Ice-jin are used to this weather. They won't miss what we take. And they won't catch us, I guarantee you. Tonight is the night of the first moon and they are celebrating, therefore distracted. This is what we do, don't forget."

Tien couldn't refute him. The poor and the outcasts of the Shadowlands relied extensively on the streams for sustenance, but the winters were always brutal, this one particularly so. The land was barren, and the fish were not enough. Their group of bandits made supply runs that helped ease the burden of the outcasts of Dragon's Edge that they lived with. This winter, those runs were beyond convenient; they were life-saving. Of the three bandits, Yamcha was the most skilled at thievery, and Tien knew it. He and Launch brought with them deadlier skillsets, rounding out the group.

Still. They had raided from the Saiyans, the Terrans, and the Namekians alike. Not a substantial amount, and never the same village twice; just enough to get past their winters. This was the first time though that they were targeting the Ice-jin. King Kold's men were known for their cunning and their cruelty; if they were caught, it would be the end of them. But the Ice-jin also made up the only kingdom with substantial, heavy winters. This winter was far too brutal to settle for less, forcing them to accept the odds. The odds were slightly lower on this night, so they couldn't wait any longer. If Yamcha was nervous though, he wasn't showing it, but Tien was wary as he scowled and looked up at the darkening sky.

Tien's right hand reached over to grasp his sword handle in the scabbard hanging off his left side. He drew the blade, ensuring it would not stick with the frost should he need to draw it that night. Yamcha looked over out of the corner of his eye, the same eye that had a scar running over it. His dark eyes caught the glint of the sword, but he said nothing and looked away again. He was a master thief, and though Tien and Launch were good in their own rights, their true skill lay with their swords, the result of training with Saiyans for years before being banished to the Shadowlands. They were hardened and experienced killers. Nights like tonight, Yamcha was glad for that.

"We take what we can," Yamcha stated, his voice bold as his breath visibly cut through the darkness.

Tien grunted, sliding his sword back in as the last bit of sunlight disappeared. It was ready for blood, if need be. "And we give nothing back," he growled.

"Are you two boys done sucking each other's cocks?"

Both men looked over their shoulders. Tien's disapproval over Launch's coarse language vanished when he realized she had somehow managed to work her way back to them and sneak up behind them. The hints of a rare smile briefly tugged his lips, a feat only the blonde woman could get from him. She caught it and gave him a knowing smirk that promised him sinful pleasure later that night, before easily hoisting herself up on one of the horses they'd stolen from the Saiyans.

"Let's get on with it then. It's cold enough to freeze my enormous testicles off," she stated, drawing up her black hood over her head.

"Didn't know you had any," Yamcha chuckled, looking up at the sky again. It was time.

"Got more than you, bandit," Launch retorted, picking up the horse reins. Her horse shifted a little while she watched the two men get on their own steeds. Saiyan horses were the best in all of Dragon's Edge; they were fast, silent, and as fearless and relentless as the warrior kingdom. In a kingdom where every Saiyan child learned to ride almost as soon as he or she could walk, they hadn't missed three horses when they were stolen weeks ago, which was all to their advantage.

And tonight, they needed every advantage they could get.

Yamcha grunted, not bothering to retort as he settled on his own stolen horse. A serious look came on his face as he jerked the reins a little, forcing his horse in the right direction. He glanced back at Tien and Launch, before raising his own dark hood to shield himself. Their horses were black, and they were all dressed in black. Save for their breaths, they blended in seamlessly.

"Stay close," he ordered, before giving his horse a start.

They rode hard in silence for almost an hour. The Saiyan horses were even better than Yamcha had hoped for. They were raised in the rich forests of the north, and could navigate the woods of the Shadowlands with ease. Finally, Yamcha reared up, drawing to a halt. Tien and Launch quickly followed suit. This was close enough, Yamcha silently decided as he swung off his horse. They would go on foot the rest of the way.

They secured their horses, and then moved on foot. They could see several instances of smoke up ahead, from fires, undoubtedly. Even from where they were, they could hear the soldiers laughing. There was an Ice-jin celebration that night, and the soldiers were enjoying themselves, leaving their posts unmanned. The bandits moved around the campfires, aiming for the first outer village of the Ice-jin kingdom instead. Launch had done the scouting and it was the best time and location for a raid, with minimal patrols, especially on this night. Quietly, they moved around the campfires in the cover of darkness. Slowly, they started encountering more and more snow, until they finally huddled together and removed their outer garments, hanging them on trees and leaving themselves in their white furs to better blend in.

The trio quietly climbed up a small and snowy hill, and laid down on the snow when they got to the top. They were officially in Ice-jin territory now, recognizing the white banners flying high with the black crown embroidered on them, snapping hard in the icy wind.

"That one there," Launch whispered. She pointed, and both men looked. There was a small fortress, well-hidden in the snow. They could still make out the long, horizontal opening in the snow at eye-level where soldiers could look out from. At the moment though, it all looked entirely abandoned. "They got supplies there. Steel, furs, and some scraps of food. Frozen, most like."

"Let's go then," Yamcha ordered.

He had been a thief and a bandit the longest of the three, going back to when he was a boy, and so he had their command along with their trust. Tien and Launch followed him faithfully as he descended back down the hill, before going the long way around. Despite blending in, they couldn't quite avoid the crunching snow beneath their boots. Yamcha grasped his own blade he always carried, his heart pounding as they slowly circled back to the fortress.

The wind was blowing more fiercely now, giving them more cover as Yamcha finally entered through the old wooden door and into the small stone fortress. He lowered the furs from his face in the sudden warmth, scanning over where they were. The place was deserted, the room no larger than the small cabin he'd grown up in. Resting underneath the horizontal ledge opening in the smooth stone wall were bows and arrows, along with sheathed steel swords and knives. No doubt, a good vantage point to defend their borders from any intruders.

The bandit glanced over at one torch burning on the wall. "Hurry. Take what you can carry. We don't know how long they will be."

The three dispersed in the room, opening the sacks they had secured on their persons and filling them with as much as they could carry. Launch immediately put on some of the furs so she would have less to carry, and then greedily stuffed her sack with more. Tien squatted down and inspected the Ice-jin steel; steel was always necessary in the Shadowlands for the poor to keep safe from desperate poachers. Yamcha found some frozen vegetables and fruits and stocked up on as much as he could.

They all froze when they heard laughter and voices close by, squatting instinctively to get out of visual range from the opening in the wall. The three silently moved to the far end of the room. Tien opened the wooden door there and the three slipped inside, the door closing behind them just as some Ice-jin men came into the room where they had just been.

"Not enough wine to keep me warm tonight," one soldier laughed. In the room next to them, three bandits were still as night and more silent than the dead. It was pitch black in the room they were in, and none of them dared try to explore the room, lest they give themselves away.

"There's never enough wine for you."

"Prince Frieza hogs it all, I say."

"Careful with what you say, brother."

"I say no lies. It is the first moon night of the season, and he takes all the best wine in the kingdom. Fuck him." The voices were getting closer.

"Your tongue will be your death one day, damn fool."

"Rather that, than die of this miserable cold. Where are my furs? It's cold as sin out there. I thought I left them here somewhere."

"You've probably had too much wine," the other voice replied, half amused and half exasperated. The footsteps got close, and the door to the room the bandits were hiding in suddenly opened as the soldier took a step inside. "Hand me that torch, will you? You probably left your furs in-"

Tien drew his sword and with both hands in a tight grip, in one fluid motion, he viciously sliced the man from behind, from his lower ribs to the top of his head. He was dead before his bloodied form hit the ground, bright red streaming blood staining his pristine white and warm furs. The other soldier took a step inside the room and barely had time to comprehend that his brother was dead, before Launch ruthlessly buried her blade completely into his temple, dropping him instantly.

Yamcha finally exhaled as Launch pulled her blade free, pressing her boot against the dead man's skull to free it while Tien instinctively wiped his sword clean. Although he was handy with his own sword, he was glad his comrades were assassins. They were more comfortable with the blood work, and he was fine with that.

"We have enough. Let's go before more come," he urgently ordered. Their clean run had failed and they had spilled blood. Ice-jin blood. Death was assured had they been caught merely stealing. If someone caught them now… "Let's go!"

Within seconds, the three were back out in the freezing cold. They stayed in the shadows, running, their breaths coming out harshly with their sacks slung over their backs. All three ran with one hand grasping the handle of a blade, ready to use it if need be. Fortunately there was no need, and they managed to make it back to their horses unscathed. Yamcha set a hard pace on his horse, wanting to put distance between them and the Ice-jin. It was only after thirty minutes or so of hard riding that he was finally convinced no one was behind them, and he allowed himself to slightly relax.

What he didn't know though, was that even though they weren't being pursued, they were certainly being watched.


End file.
